


Steph's New Ghost

by FestivalGrey



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: (she possesses his dick), F/M, Ghost Sex, Ghosts, Human/Pokemon Relationship(s), Interspecies, Interspecies Sex, Large Cock, Partial Possession, Partial Transformation, Pokephilia, Possession, Scents & Smells, Somnophilia, Transformation, a mismagius crushes on a trainer and possesses his dick. they both love it, like absurdly large, that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26975518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestivalGrey/pseuds/FestivalGrey
Summary: Not all ghosts are malicious. Some are pranksters, who enjoy possessing parts of trainers' anatomy for their own enjoyment.One day in Alola, a Mismagius decides she's going to possess a particular part of a Trial Captain she's smitten for... it's going to be a wild ride for them both.
Relationships: Mumargi | Mismagius/Original Character(s), Mumargi | Mismagius/Original Pokemon Trainer(s)
Kudos: 26





	Steph's New Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Written for kirbutashi over on FA, and based on a series of pics for them by Puptini! Steph is Puptini's character, not mine, and is used with permission.
> 
> I have [a Twitter](https://twitter.com/FestivalGrey) where I tweet about story progress and general horniness! It's also a reliable way to get stories like these of your own. Check it out if interested!
> 
> And hope you like some ghost-on-dick lovin' :'p

The Alola region takes great pride in their unique traditions. Whereas other regions test their trainers through the familiar old Gym system, sending ambitious young upstarts trekking overland to endure puzzles in far-off towns only to throw down with Leaders wielding teams of powerful battlers, Alola does things a little bit different. Here, the whole region believes that loyalty towards, and coexistence with, wild pokemon is paramount. The people of Alola proudly live side-by-side with wild pokemon even in their very cities, and instead of Gym Leaders, they have Trial Captains—trainers who work with and alongside wild pokemon to provide a different sort of challenge for up-and-coming trainers.

The novelty of this setup attracts talented trainers from around the world, and one such trainer goes by the name of Steph Larussa. A native of Kanto and Johto, the closeness between pokemon and people in Alola appealed to him; he settled down on Ula’ula, staking a claim as a Trial Captain specializing in Dark-type pokemon.

His work with the pokemon of the region, helping them grow in strength and power and nurturing them to serve as worthy trials for new trainers testing themselves across the island, quickly led to a widespread respect for the young man across the wilds of Ula’ula, especially among the Dark-types whom he worked closest with.

But little did he know he had admirers of a different sort as well.

Ula’ula was home to more pokemon than just Dark-types; the area’s penchant for attracting ghosts and spirits was well-known, and trainers of all sorts knew to stay away from places like Tapu Village or the ruins of the Thrifty Megamart, where the tapu’s anger still seeped into the land like arsenic. Tales abounded of clouded skies through which no light could shine; objects levitating on their own; mocking laughs coming from right behind a trainer’s hapless neck.

But not all ghosts were malicious. In fact, most Ghost-type pokemon are little more than harmless pranksters, carrying along in the shadows and deriving joy from jokes and japes. They have their own delights. Some can be mischievous, some aloof…

Some are even what you might call ‘lovey-dovey.’

She was a wild thing, a Mismagius who had picked up on the way that the pokemon of Ula’ula spoke of the new Trial Captain, a specialist of Dark-type pokemon. Intrigued, she drifted her way across the island to find this new human. Why wouldn’t she? When you’re an everlasting spirit, you truly do have all the time in the world.

The specter found Steph on the edge of his trial site, and would you believe it was love at first sight? Of course, stories abound of humans who find themselves inexplicably drawn to the rough wildness of a Lucario or the sensual grace of Milotic, but it cuts both ways. Plenty of pokemon have the hots for humans, too.

And this little spirit was absolutely smitten.

She watched quietly from the shadows, always from afar. He was so _handsome,_ his umber skin gleaming with sweat as he worked, his coat showing off the bare, muscular chest underneath. His hair was a charming, black-hued mop that looked appealing in its effortlessness. He wore bandages tight around his abs, faded black pants that were artfully torn, and a charm that dangled off his crimson belt.

He was everything she never knew she wanted.

The Mismagius hung around for days at a time, fawning over the new Trial Captain, swooning at the way he commanded both trained and wild pokemon alike. She found herself thinking that _she_ wouldn’t mind being ordered around like that…

Well. Food for thought.

Of course, while pining from afar was all well and good for those silly stories that humans told each other about love, she was a pokemon of _action,_ and one day, after working up enough nerve, she decided to do what her type did best: indulge in some mischief of her own.

Steph was catching some hard-earned Zs on a grassy hillside outside the trial site, and that’s when she made her move. The Mismagius drifted close, her violet form almost see-through in the shining Alolan sun. Hovering briefly around Steph, she cooed to herself, taking in everything about him. He looked so vibrant and wonderful, the picture of a perfect trainer…

Chuckling to herself, the Mismagius made her form as light as possible, to the point where she was little more than a soft mist—a wisp of amethyst light that anyone would write off without so much of a second glance. Moving sneakily in, she caressed the sleeping trainer’s arms, coiled herself into his hair to take in his scent, cupped herself in the hollow between his neck and his shoulder. She really could have done this forever… stay here and lavish her attention with such a light touch when he woke, he would never even begin to suspect that she had been here. It was a devilishly appealing thought.

But no… she had a different idea in mind. One to take her closeness to Steph to a different level entirely.

Grinning with anticipation, the wispy spirit spiraled down, her vaporous form caressing his sides and tickling against his muscles. Eventually, she found her way to his pants. His zipper was slightly down—little more than a few centimeters, but it was enough for her. Slipping inside, she quickly found herself sharing space with his cock.

Swirling happily around it, breathing in the heavy aroma of his loins and rubbing sensually against the black tuft of hair that crowned it, the Mismagius eventually decided enough was enough. She was a ghost, after all; it was time to put these powers of hers to work.

Changing her form again, this time from vapor to ectoplasm, she coalesced around Steph’s cock, ready to begin her possession. At her gentle touch, the Trial Captain snuffled and shuddered, his cock starting to stiffen slightly, a blush coloring his cheeks, and the Mismagius felt a burn of prideful anticipation. Oh yes—both of them were going to have a _lot_ of fun. She just knew it!

The possession was slow, sensual, tender—it had to be, if she didn’t want Steph to wake. She didn’t mind taking her time, of course. Her ectoplasm coated his member, his cock gradually tenting up from the touch, growing stiff and solid. She gleefully wrapped about it, caressing it with her plasmic form, playing at his nerve endings with her spectral energy and delighting in the way he swelled and swelled at her touch, growing harder and harder still. This was everything she wanted—no, scratch that. She shook her head, chittering to herself. This was only the beginning.

At the Mismagius’s delighted insistence, her energy seeped _into_ his member, and her possession began in earnest.

Being a ghost had its perks. Intangibility, energy manipulation, not to mention little things like eternal life. (Or unlife.) But possession had to be near the top of the list. Changing their forms, ghost pokemon could merge into other living creatures, taking partial or complete control and even morphing the form of the original.

Some spirits used it to play pranks, whereas others went out of their way to try to assimilate into human society. A few even used it as a battle technique. But Ghost-type pokemon were a diverse lot, and some of them were hopeless romantics—and really, was there any better way to become one with the target of your affections than to _literally_ become one with them? To soak into their flesh and share their bodies and all its accompanying sensations? The tenderness, the pleasure, the erotic arousal, it could all be experienced by both the ghost and their paramour. It was simply the most intimate experience one could imagine, and it’s what made spirits like the Mismagius so excited to unite with those they pined after.

The change was immediate. To an outsider, they would have seen Steph’s cock, coated in violet ectoplasm, suddenly shudder as the plasm sank inside. They would have seen the telltale color change of ghostly possession; his cock would have blushed the same purple as any Mismagius, the tip of it morphing and changing until it looked vaguely like a witch’s hat. A happy, mischievous face sprouted on the fore of it as the Mismagius asserted herself. Steph’s balls, too, began to change color, assimilated by the amorous Ghost-type to become morphous and purple and bedecked with small coral jewels like those that the Mismagius wore in her normal form.

And that wasn’t all. Steph’s cock _grew,_ too; not just the typical growth that follows when any man experiences an erection, but a slow, unstoppable swelling as the Mismagius poured herself inside. Under the guiding touch of her ectoplasm, Steph’s member swelled up bigger and bigger, quickly surpassing his normal erection size (which was already something considerable) as his dick swelled up to accommodate its spirited new tenant.

The musk which had so enticed the specter changed as well, laying heavier in the air—an erotic, overpowering sensation which would have made anyone light-hearted to smell it. It was a mixture of two arousals: Steph’s own, of course, as well as the spirit that was now riding shotgun down south, as it were. The whole mess was being amplified and magnified by the Mismagius’s powers.

And Steph did seem appreciative. All during the possession—and subsequent transformation—of his dick, he failed to wake; but he mumbled and snuffed and blushed, and as the Mismagius sank in and asserted control, the sleeping trainer shuddered, grunting, a blush coloring his cheeks as he groaned mid-slumber.

To her delight, the Mismagius _felt_ Steph’s arousal as she became one with his dick. The pleasure she provided to him as her plasm merged with his cock was clearly something he appreciated, and that very pleasure charged through her like a landslide rolling downhill, fierce and unstoppable. She shuddered in her new form, cooing, as _her_ delight merged with Steph’s delight, feeding back on the Trial Captain’s sensations even more, which made _her_ get even more worked up, and—

Well, there were such things as self-fulfilling prophecies.

As she settled into her new form, sighing with bliss, the Mismagius was cogent of two things: the first was how stifling the confines of her paramour’s pants and underwear were, the fabric pressing her close to his body and making her squirm. The second was that she could feel a tiny bead of pre starting to form at the top of her head—which was, of course, the head of Steph’s penis as well. Shivering to herself from the sensation, she prepared to fully embrace her new role as Steph’s cock.

She was, of course, a practiced spirit, and easily asserted control over the anything she possessed. Chuckling to herself, she wriggled independently of her ‘owner,’ delighting herself by rubbing against the fabric of Steph’s underwear or tickling herself with the mane of pubic hair that crowned his cock. As she wriggled about, she played with Steph’s balls as well. Under her direction, the young man’s sack squirmed around, squeezing between his legs and rubbing up against the main trunk of his cock, the ghostly face on the outside peering down with delight as she made his sack dance. Every push and squirming action sent delight trotting up through her; she shuddered happily, panting and cooing as she felt more and more pre beading up top, and in his sleep, Steph snuffled to himself before opening his mouth to pant out from arousal. His voice rose in a murmur as he was worked up by the activity going on down below.

For her part, the Mismagius was enjoying every part of what she was doing. As her arousal spiked, so did Steph’s size; his cock got bigger and bigger and bigger, already far larger than any human could have hoped to boast. His clothes strained to contain the hugeness, and the Ghost-type rubbed back against them impishly. As she continued squirming about, delighting in the feeling of _being_ Steph’s rock-hard, enormous cock, fully in love with the rushing thrill of feeling his arousal as her own, some of the pre beading up there dripped down the side of her face. From the corner of her eye, she saw that the fluid’s color had changed; it was a pearlescent, almost iridescent purple, and the sight of it absolutely delighted her to the point where she cooed with joy. At her happy sensation, her power, which she normally kept a lid on, started acting on her own accord, and the purple pre began floating of its own accord, dancing to the beat that was set by her spectral power.

Thus far, she’d kept things on the downlow, more or less—a sneaky possession, a quiet lustfulness. But now, the arousal dominating every aspect of her being and precum dripping down the sides of her body, her inhibitions were lowered, and she happily started to lean into it.

Cooing and churring to herself, she wriggled about, pilfering pleasure from the racecar-thrill of sensitive muscles being stimulated. Spikes of pleasure and sudden delight rushed through her. She started growing more, and more, and this time she didn’t bother trying to stifle or hold back her power—her energy, fed by the arousal, fed back into Steph’s member in turn, and the already-huge cock started growing more and more and more.

And finally, as she threw caution to the wind, he started to feel it.

As she cozied up to his bush, chirruping as she played around and basked in his musk, he mumbled, his mouth tightening. His hands gripped against the grass of the hill so tight that some of it started to get yanked up by the roots; sweat beaded on his forehead; a low, burning blush colored his cheeks; his forehead wrinkled and his cheeks dimpled and his lips parted slightly in a shallow, needy pant as excitement raced through his system, invading his dreams and his touch and everything about him.

As her host grew more and more fretful, the Mismagius continued having as much fun as she could. Directing her will towards Steph’s sack—which was big and getting bigger, ballooning in size to match his increasingly-massive member—she set it squirming around, blushing like a schoolgirl. At her direction, Steph’s fat sack squished this way, and then the other way, wriggling and dancing about, every skipping motion sending pleasurable pinpricks of bliss up through her. She cooed and giggled and did it more and more, and the pleasure threaded its way through her up to Steph himself.

And he seemed to be enjoying itself.

As his sleep got more and more fitful, his blush burned brighter, his panting breath grew faster paced and shallower than ever. “Mmmmn,” he murmured to himself, now left on that borderland between sleep and wakefulness, thinking he was in the last throes of an especially erotic dream. “What—f-fuck—”

His voice touched his passenger’s ears, and the knowledge that he was waking up, that he would see what she’d done to his cock and sack, that he would _know_ she’d partially possessed him, was more than enough to send her over the edge. The thrill of being caught, of her sneaky possession finally getting discovered, just enticed her to go further. Her power folding in on itself, she swelled in size more and more, Steph’s cock coming along for the ride; musk was hanging all about her now, a mixture of _both_ their scents, so heavy and so sharp that the aroma could even be _seen_ as a wafting plum-colored tinge in the air; she felt the pleasure lancing out of her tip— _Steph’s_ tip—as more and more of that pearlescent pre, which was still hovering at the direction of her powers.

She got bigger and bigger by the moment, never ceasing as she continued growing, and soon Steph’s clothes couldn’t possibly hope to contain such massiveness. The young Trial Captain grunted as the sudden sensation of tightness, of _pressure_ invaded what had been an erotic dream, and for her part, the Mismagius impishly figured that there was nothing to be done but just to lean into it. The jig was going to be up sooner or later, and his clothes could only hold out for so long, so there was only one thing to do!

She swelled in size, bigger—bigger—bigger still. There were smaller fire hydrants. The button on his pants strained valiantly but snapped off; the zipper began to rip apart. Even the elastic waistband on his boxers began to strain.

The Mismagius didn’t care—this was all part of the fun. She didn’t hold anything back, growing more and more, surging out, cooing and chirring as she felt more pre trickle down her, delighting in the sensual thrill of wriggling Steph’s balls against his legs.

Finally, the mixture of bliss and pressure was too much for Steph. Blinking awake, still sleepy and uncertain, the Trial Captain could only gape as he saw his own cock, massive and discolored and oh-so-very-pleasurable, straining against his half-ruined clothes; and then, with a proud, victorious cry, the Mismagius gave it her all and surged out as high as she could.

His clothes had no chance. The elastic waistband gave out one last noble cry of protest before it snapped forever; his clothes shredded, scraps of fabric going everywhere as his pants and underwear were completely obliterated as she shot up.

She was _titanic,_ easily bigger than his leg, almost rivaling Steph himself in size—a massive member, a fusion of his own cock and her Mismagius self, giant and purple and grinning with a peaked witch’s cap. As she tented up, erect and proud, Steph could only stare, wide-eyed, wondering if he was still dreaming; and then suddenly he arched his spine, eyes wide, cheeks burning, as he gasped out in orgasm—

The Mismagius trilled as she came and Steph came, both in unison, his cum, her cum, _their_ cum jetting out in a magnificent spray of glowing violet. Reeling and gasping as he was left uncertain of what exactly had been going on, Steph sprawled out on the grassy hillside, staring up at the massive member towering over him that was, he had to admit, looking down at him.

 _I’m dreaming,_ he thought. _I’m hallucinating. I’m crazy. Time to wake up!_ He pinched himself, winced, and did it again.

Yeah, that wasn’t happening. He couldn’t wake up—he was already awake. Which meant that the giant purple cock staring at him with a mixture of admiration and concern was real.

Well then.

As the orgasm faded away. Steph noticed that his cum was translucent, vivid purple, and it was _glowing,_ and it was also floating about them, animated, even, dancing slightly to a tune of power he felt pulsing down in his cock.

The face on his member (which he now recognized as that of a Mismagius) bent over him with a happy chirp, nuzzling against him affectionately. Steph tried to work through what was going on. _Okay, so. There’s a pokemon inhabiting my dick. It—they—she? Feels like a she. She’s acting all…_

And the Mismagius rolled against him, cooing and babbling, smearing more of that glowing cum everywhere, before pulling back and batting her eyes at him.

 _…lovey-dovey,_ he thought wryly.

He wasn’t a moron. Even if ghosts weren’t his preferred pokemon of choice, they had enough similarities to Dark-types that he understood some of the basics. And since Ula’Ula had a rep as a ghost haven anyway…

 _So I have an admirer. Who decided she was going to possess me—but not just any part of me, no, that would be too_ easy. _She just had to go for the dick._

Staring skyward, the young man wondered how it had ever come to this. As the Mismagius bent over him, babbling with what seemed to be worry, he sighed. From what he understood, partial possession like this was uncommon, but harmless. He reached up to pat the ghost on her head. She hadn’t meant any harm.

It wasn’t until he patted her and immediately shuddered at the deliciously sensitive touch of his fingertip against his cockhead that he realized: _Oh yeah, that’s right. Her head is my… “head” too, kind of._

Perhaps it was the ghost’s ambient energy perking things up, but he already felt ready for another go. And if he’d thought that _he’d_ enjoyed the touch of his hand against his cock, it was nothing on the Mismagius. She immediately squirmed and wriggled excitedly about, gasping with delight, and Steph felt her desire and ecstasy compounding against his own. And what was worse (or should that have been what was _better?_ ) every movement of hers sent jolts of pleasure rushing through him, as if someone else was giving him a handy. Immediately he started to feel arousal color his cheeks again.

Spirits above, but this felt _good._

Bracing himself against the earth, he slowly began to rise. It was slow going—though not because of any added weight, surprisingly enough. The Mismagius’s innate power took care of that for him. No, the difficult part was actually finding his balance. But once he stood, he glanced down and then, swallowing, reached down and caressed his cock with both hands.

The effect was immediate, a coursing river of sensation and pleasure that immediately threatened to flood and overwhelm him. It was like a combination of masturbation and the best handjobs he’d ever received rolled into one, except _more,_ on a scale almost unmatched, and that was before you counted the Mismagius’s pleasure flowing in. In places, it was almost impossible to discern where her pleasure ended and his began.

Placing one hand on either end of his now-massive cock, wryly aware that he couldn’t even make the tips of his fingers touch with opposite hands, he spoke down at the ghost possessing him. “Hey… let me know if this is good for you. I think—I think you’re going to like this.”

And then he really started going to town on himself.

Both hands hammered up and down, over and over, faster and faster, and he immediately had to bite his lip. “Fuck,” Steph muttered under his breath, “oh fuck, _fuck,_ that’s good, that’s—nnnnnnnngh, _ahng—_ ”

The more he rubbed the more intense it got. Bliss upon bliss cascaded out of his dick—and the best part was that the bigger his cock got, the more pleasure there was to, well, _squeeze_ out of it. He pressed his hands confidently, shimmying up and down his massive length, hearing the Mismagius burble with delight as she wriggled against him, pearlescent pre already starting to leak from her tip. As he continued, Steph felt an unfamiliar node of power begin pulsing down in his loins—unfamiliar, but not unwanted. As the power unfurled, more of the Mismagius’s magic began to work around them. Their vivid cum, still glowing from last orgasm, began to dance around them at her urging, forming a loose ring that bobbed in time with Steph’s rubbing. When he gave her a particularly hard press, she squealed and the ring splashed out, spraying the grass and flowers and leaves like a lusty morning dew.

The scent, too, was almost unreal. Steph, like most men, know his cock could get a little… sharp-smelling, at times. And also like most men, he knew what his own scent was. But here was every smell he’d associated with his own manhood peaking, climbing higher and higher, so sharp he could almost taste it, so infused with the Mismagius’s energy that their musk could be _seen_ in the air. Yes, their musk—there was no other word for it. Their arousal had united and now their pleasures and sensations and even their scents were becoming one.

The Ghost-type’s energy built alongside his pleasure, and Steph’s breaths grew heavy. He was close, _both_ of them were, he just knew it.

As his pleasure spiked, the ectoplasmic cum picked up its dance, splashing playfully about. He felt more pre leaking out, and immediately that too was set dancing about the air. The Mismagius cooed and chirruped happily, and his sack squished about of its own accord, squirming against his legs and hanging so low he almost worried it would touch the ground. If he’d thought that the sensation of his balls squirming and squishing against anything would have been unpleasant, he needn’t have; the Mismagius took care of that. All that remained was an intense, almost unspeakable pleasure.

His jerking motions grew more and more haphazard, his tongue lolling from his mouth. He was close, so close he could almost taste it.

Abruptly, her voice rising high in a blissful song, the Mismagius shook free of his hands. Steph only had a moment to stare at her before she took control of matters. Wriggling energetically, the Mismagius bent over and rubbed against him, nuzzling him and chirring with delight. Her affection was present as a low rumble that shook against him, almost like a cat’s purr. She rubbed against his chest and underneath his chin, tickling his skin and smearing some of the pre against him, and every brush made Steph go wild.

“Hey,” he said, still panting. “We’re so close—I should—”

But he didn’t get a chance to finish. With a squeal, the Mismagius rose and fixed her mouth to his, and Steph could only force out a surprised “Mmmrph?! Rrmmmm… nnnnmm…” as he began making out with his cock’s new passenger.

Her ‘tongue’ was ectoplasmic, and the touch of it against his was positively electric, sending pinpricks dancing through his mouth to race down his spine and settle in his loins. He shuddered despite himself; the taste was _sharp,_ compounded by the musk that still misted the air, but also addictive.

They rubbed and wrestled their tongues together, Steph losing himself to the incredulity of the situation. A ghost had possessed his cock—he was making out with the ghost—he was making out with his _own cock_ —and all the while there was no experience he’d ever dreamed of that could match this. Nothing, _nothing_ was as all-encompassing as this.

“Mmph,” he murmured, the feeling of the Mismagius pressing against his lips all he could focus on at the moment. He raised a lazy hand and stroked the side of his huge member; the sensation sent a tether of bliss crawling through him, and that made the Mismagius coo with delight, and _her_ delight fed _his_ —

No man could have ever fought against the flood of sensations from this. No man would have even _wanted_ to. He wrapped his arms about his cock, delighting in the pressure, and held her as close as he could, picking up the pace as he made out with her, swirling his tongue about, teasing it against her teeth, feeling her plasm push back into his mouth, rubbing against his lips. It was… it was…

…oh, _fuck_ …

Steph came again, much harder this time, his voice high and straining. The Mismagius tensed, feeling blissful herself, and then cum _erupted_ out of her top, jetting out into the air like a fountain, all gleaming and purple and magic. With a groan, Steph sagged back down, head reeling in the aftermath as their cum drifted slowly earthward.

As he succumbed to his weariness and drifted off again, he thought that he’d _never_ had anything like this.

\---

When he woke, he swallowed. Somehow, he’d thought the Mismagius would depart once the two of them had had their fun.

He was mistaken.

 _She didn’t… leave…_ he thought ruefully. He wasn’t worried that she was trying to permanently possess him or anything—there were ways of forcing Ghost-types out if need be, and as a Dark trainer, he was well equipped to handle them. More likely she too had been weary in the aftermath.

“Hey,” he said, tapping the side of his dick. “ _Hey._ ” There was no response. Sighing, Steph checked his watch. He was due back at his villa.

…and he was stranded in the wilderness with a giant ghost cock and almost no clothes.

Grunting, he rose to unsteady feet, still unused to the new balance dictated by the Mismagius’s transformation. “It’s gotta be around here somewhere…” he muttered to himself, gingerly searching his surrounding area. “Ah! Here.”

It was a greatcoat, faded black in color like his long-gone pants. He sometimes wore it when needing to project authority as a Trial Captain. Maybe this would work?

Pressing his cock up against his chest, Steph struggled to button up the coat. The first few went fine, but the third… after nearly a minute of struggling, he managed to close it, his cock visible as a bulge straining against the coat.

The button only lasted a few seconds before it was sent flying away.

Giving up and feeling defeated, Steph resigned himself to walking the backroads only frequented by pokemon, thankful he didn’t live in a big city and desperate that no one saw.

His partner, Shay, nearly fainted when he got home, and he playfully showed off his new equipment towards her saucer-sized eyes. “You like?” he teased. “Thinking about making this permanent…”

She jumped up, blushing madly. “Don’t you _dare!_ ” she screamed.

By the next morning, the Mismagius was up and ready, and she responded to his gentle promptings to take her leave. Once she was gone, everything was back to normal, with no indication that his cock had ever been anything than what it was.

She drifted around with a sad smile on her face, and Steph met her eyes with one of his own. “Got a partner,” he said, “and I’m gonna be loyal. But it was fun! And feel free to come back sometime. …Not for _that,_ mind you, but maybe you could practice battling my team or just play pranks about the house.”

She perked up at that, and did a little flip over herself in the air. Then, waving farewell with a little wisp of her cloak, she drifted out into the Alolan sunshine, feeling satisfied and certain that she would be back soon enough.

After all, she’d just made a friend.


End file.
